Leroy would have his hands full with these riders. He had to get them on their horses and back to base camp before it got too dark. And Pete Langford couldn’t help because he’d already gone ahead to check on the camp.
But Heath couldn’t leave without investigating, and he would catch up to them.
In the distance, he faintly heard the man call, “Be careful. I don’t want to have to come looking for you!”
Heath directed Boots to quicken the pace. He figured he’d look along the hiking trail. People usually stuck to those. Someone might have taken a tumble and it would be getting dark once the sun started setting behind the mountains. Easier to find them now. He hoped that was all that had happened and whoever had screamed had picked herself up and kept walking.
Except the scream echoing in his mind curdled in his gut. With his Remington pump-action shotgun in the saddle scabbard, he palmed his handgun, his .44 Magnum, for a potential short-range battle. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He’d already had enough to last him a lifetime, but he would never go unprepared.
Mentally or physically.
“Come on, Boots.” He directed the horse up the trail for half a mile, then ran into a hiker’s trail that circled Red Rock Hill and led him to a fork in the road. He could continue on the horseback riding trail, but he and the campers had come from there. He chose the hiker’s trail instead.
The rangers didn’t appreciate horses on the hiking trails, but this might be an emergency and it was taking far too long to respond.
Heath the hero, coming to save the day. Right. He could have sent Leroy to search, but the man didn’t know the area nearly as well as Heath, who’d grown up exploring Bridger-Teton National Forest. Spent his childhood hiking in the Gros Ventre Wilderness.
He urged Boots up the steeper way and kept his eyes out for anyone who could have fallen off the trail. He wished he could have brought Rufus and Timber, who could have sniffed someone out, but this particular region wasn’t dog friendly.
“Help . . .”
“Whoa,” he said to Boots. The call for help was so faint he was surprised he’d heard it. “Who’s there?”
Quickly, he slid from the horse. Boots lifted his head high, his tail too, and snorted. Stomped the ground. Could he sense someone was hurt?
“Easy, boy.” Though the horse was highly trained, Heath loosely tied him to a whitebark pine.
Heath swept his gaze over the darkening forest near the edge of the trail where it sloped downward toward the Grayback River that was pebbled with boulders and roots bursting from the ground. He could see how someone could trip and then slide down along the pine needles.
He took slow and easy steps as he made his way down. “I’m here to help. Anybody there?”
The hair on his neck stood on end. A low growl rumbled too close for comfort and crawled over him. Every warning his father had ever given him flitted through his mind at the same instant.
“Keep the length of a football field away from bears. Hike in groups. Make lots of noise. Back away. Never run. Leave the area immediately and give the bear more space.”
Maybe the bear hadn’t seen him, and he could back away. Then again, maybe the beast was looking right at him.
He remained perfectly still except to angle his head to see.
CHAPTER THREE
Big, dark eyes stared back at him through the trees, a mere twenty yards away. Too close for comfort. Seven hundred and fifty pounds of flesh and fur rose up on its hind legs. Roared. Teeth seemed to glow in the darkening forest.
A challenge.
If the grizzly decided to charge, this would be over fast. Still, the charge could be a bluff. If Heath had to shoot, he’d better be quick about it.
Be bear aware!
Heath knew the rules.
Had memorized the rule book. Could recite every rule backward as well as forward. Rules meant nothing if you didn’t follow them. He hadn’t brought his bear spray. Though touted as the answer, it didn’t work every time. It had its limits. Instead, he’d brought a gun to this battle. Besides, he’d been too focused on the scream. And then the barely audible call for help.
The bear had probably been down at the river fishing. Maybe the shot and the scream had agitated him long before Heath had stepped into his life.
Heart pounding, Heath palmed the Magnum—a pistol loaded with heavy bullets for such an occasion—but it would be a shame to have to shoot. It wasn’t the bear’s fault that Heath had startled him.
Maybe he could fix this.
Lifting his arms, he spoke in even tones as he backed away slowly, adding a few more yards. He had to keep putting distance between them while he let the beast know he wasn’t dinner. “You don’t want to eat me or kill me. No. That would send the rangers after you. You’d be relocated away from your bear friends and family. But more likely, you’d be killed.”
In all his years living in Wyoming, he’d never come face-to-face with a grizzly. He’d seen them foraging off in the distance, sure, but he’d never been this close. Rangers usually let the public—wilderness guides in particular—know when a grizzly had been spotted in an area. But mostly, everyone was warned—this was grizzly country. Be aware. Be on alert.
Now if Heath could back away and out of sight and the bear went along his own path, Heath could get back to his business.
His heel caught on a fallen branch and he tripped. Fell on his rear. The bear lumbered forward. Not quite a charge, but still intimidating since the grizzly was so close and could be on top of Heath in seconds.
Panic seized Heath’s limbs. He gripped the pistol, fingered the trigger, and prepared to shoot to kill the beast in self-defense.
“Wait!” A woman stepped into view next to Heath.
“Are you crazy?” he asked. “Get back!”
With both arms extended, she pointed her canister of bear spray and started spraying. The mist shot out and formed a cloud. She had nerves of steel to face a grizzly. Heath kept his weapon aimed at the creature in case the spray didn’t work. It wasn’t a guarantee, especially if the bear was angry.
When the animal was ten feet away and closing in on them, the spray hit its face and eyes.
The woman remained where she stood, her limbs visibly shaking. He was surprised she could keep her aim. The spray would soon run out.
Heath continued to aim his gun as he slowly got to his feet and stood next to her. Two humans facing the bear could deter it.
The beast moaned. Grunted. Pawed at its face and eyes.
“This might only make him madder than a hornet and meaner than a whole nest.” He kept his voice low.
“What should we do now?”
“Slowly back away.”
The grizzly rubbed his face in the pine needles.
“The cannister’s instructions say the effects of the spray should last a few minutes,” she said, a significant tremble in her voice.
“Do you want to wait around and see?” Heath started up the hill. It was best to recede and put distance between them. Let the bear get back to his life. Heath shouldn’t have turned his back on the bear, but the terrain was too rough and that had already gotten him in trouble when he’d tripped.
He felt like such an idiot.
When he realized she hadn’t joined him, he backtracked and took her hand, urging her up the hill and back to the trail. He found Boots—still agitated—tethered where he had left him. The horse’s earlier jitters made sense now.
Heath turned to the woman and took her in for the first time. Blood streamed down her forehead on the right side, and she was unsteady on her feet. He’d been on her left side when she’d sprayed the bear, and since the woods were darker than the open trail, he hadn’t seen the blood. His heart rate finally evened out, and his head cleared.
Then it hit him. The scream. “You were the one who screamed earlier? Called for help?”
“Yes. I screamed. But I think someone else screamed too. There’s a guy with a rifle out there. He s
hot someone. I . . . I witnessed a murder.”
Heath’s heart jumped right back to his throat. He hoped he hadn’t heard correctly. “Wait, you witnessed a murder? Are you sure?”
“Yes. A man shot a woman. It was the rifle shot that disturbed the bear. Now can we get out of here? I need to tell the sheriff.”
Her words left him shell-shocked. “Are you sure she’s dead?”
“Yes.”
Heath eyed the forest. He thought of the gunfire he’d heard. “Where did this happen?”
“Across the river.”
So he couldn’t check the woman to see if she was still alive. And since it happened across the river, they weren’t in imminent danger. He breathed a little easier. He would radio ahead for Leroy or Pete to contact the sheriff’s department. Heath wasn’t on duty at the moment, but even if he was, others needed to get to the scene. Find the body. Secure evidence. Look for the shooter.
He returned his attention to the injured woman in front of him. “I need to stop that bleeding.” The scent of blood could draw the bear from miles away, and he was much too close as it was. Fortunately, Heath’s saddlebag contained all the essentials. There was the old adage “If a horse could get hurt, he would.” Quickly he removed the first aid kit. “I’m going to stop the bleeding for now, then we’ll clean it up at the camp. This might hurt a little when I put pressure on it.”
He opened the saddlebag and pulled out bear spray. He grumbled and squeezed it, then put it aside for some gauze and an elastic bandage and went to work. She winced as he wrapped the bandage around her head and over the wound. Did he know her? He didn’t think he’d seen her around. Probably a visitor to the region. Still, her red hair reminded him of a childhood friend.
“There. That will hold it for a while.” Then she needed a doctor. No doubt about it.
He gestured for her to get on Boots. She shook her head and stepped back. “I can’t ride.”
Compassion flooded him. That and a sense of urgency. Twigs snapped. Grunts and eerie groans grew louder. This bear might be too ornery for his own good. Heath had hoped the beast would take another path and they wouldn’t run into him again. He still felt like such an idiot. If anyone should have been prepared to face a bear, it should have been Heath. Instead, this slender woman stood up to a grizzly on his behalf.
“We need to get out of here now,” he said. “You don’t have to know how to ride. Let me help you up. Put your foot in the stirrup and lift your leg over.”
Boots was over fifteen hands and feisty, so probably intimidating to her, even though she’d stood up to a grizzly bear.
She frowned but did as he asked, placing her foot in the stirrup. He grabbed her waist to guide her the rest of the way. “You’re a pro.”
Good thing she was slight, and Boots was big. The horse could handle their combined weight, but Heath didn’t make a habit of riding double. He considered this an emergency, and it was only for a short distance down the trail.
Pro or not, she had a nasty cut on her head. Probably needed stitches. He eyed the saddle. He could probably ride with her, but that would be much too close. “I’m going to ride behind the saddle, but my arms will be around you, okay?”
She nodded. Her adrenaline was probably crashing. Definitely an emergency. He climbed on behind the saddle. “Let’s get you out of here and fixed up.” He was concerned she could have other injuries from the bear. She was lucky to be alive.
“Come on, Boots.” Heath radioed ahead to the camp and got ahold of Leroy. “Call the sheriff. Someone’s witnessed a murder.” He gave Leroy the general location about where to search for a body. Maybe they could find the shooter before he got away, but it was doubtful. The Bridger-Teton National Forest encompassed over three million acres. They wouldn’t make it to the crime scene before dark. Maybe not even before the rain started.
As for his transporting her down the mountain, dusk would afford them some light for another hour or so, but darkness came fast in these woods. He urged the horse down the trail that grew hazardous with the fading light. A trail in the dark was definitely not optimal, but he could use a flashlight if needed. Boots was sure-footed either way and could handle this.
Heath kept his arms around the woman as he held on to the reins, and he could feel her body tremble. He hoped she was only getting chilled because the evening was cooling, but he was concerned she would go into shock.
Come on, Boots. The stallion seemed to sense the urgency and quickened his pace down the trail.
“It’s going to be all right. I’m glad I heard you scream and came to investigate,” he said. “Thank you, by the way, for saving the bear.”
“Excuse me? I thought I saved you from the bear.”
“Oh, that.” He cleared his throat. He hadn’t meant to sound as if he didn’t appreciate her effort, but the truth was that he would have shot the grizzly once he knew for certain it was a threat. The bear could have been bluffing, but it was a risk to wait and see. By spraying the bear, she saved it. But now that he thought about it, she’d stepped boldly out in front of him to save them both. “Thanks for saving my life with the bear spray.”
Thanks for not asking why I didn’t have my own in hand.
“You don’t think the bear will follow us?”
“Nah. He’s long gone.” He hoped. He needed to warn Leroy and his campers about the grizzly in the area, and to be careful. They always packed away food in bear boxes. He’d give his friend Ranger Dan Hinckley a call to notify him he’d run into an aggressive bear.
The shooter was another matter altogether. Concern for his guests churned in his gut. Packing up and heading back to Emerald M this late would be too treacherous. But one thing at a time.
On the trail, Heath focused on guiding them back to the horse path and then the spot by the river where he’d brought his horseback-riding campers. They were gone now, as Heath had hoped. Leroy had rounded the campers up and started them on their way to the base camp in the wilderness, where they would stay one more night.
As for Heath, he would let Boots take them back to camp. The horse knew the way as well as Heath.
Other than their discussion about her saving him from the bear, they traveled in silence. Heath focused on the trail through the darkening woods, concern for her and for his horse taking up his thoughts, while the woman kept to herself. Just as well. He didn’t have the bandwidth for a conversation. He hoped she didn’t feel awkward with his arms around her to guide Boots, but it couldn’t be avoided.
At the base camp, Heath slid from Boots first, then assisted her down. Her face still caked in blood, she eyed the backcountry camp—tents, tables, and big flames roaring in the fire pit, while he looked at her head. The bandage appeared to have put enough pressure on the cut to stop the bleeding. Hopefully she hadn’t lost much blood.
She studied his face, then her eyes grew wide. “Heath?”
The way she said his name, the earlier familiarity he’d sensed rushed through his brain. It couldn’t be her.
“Heath McKade?”
“Yes. That’s me.” He looked into those golden amber eyes and remembered. He’d been too distracted to fully comprehend it earlier.
“You don’t remember me?” she asked.
“Harper . . . Harper Larrabee.” He struggled to believe it was actually her.
“It’s Reynolds now. Mom changed our names when we moved.”
His mind rushed back to those rough grade-school years. He took in her thick red hair, long, pretty face, and slender feminine form. She wasn’t the twelve-year-old girl he’d known. Even with glasses and braces, she’d been a pretty girl then and was now a beautiful woman. They’d been best friends. She’d been there through the worst time in his life. Then her family moved away suddenly after her father died. He wanted to reach out, grip her arms, hug or something, but he thought better of it.
Instead, he said, “You’ve grown up.” Brilliant, Heath.
“I can’t believe it was you who came t
o investigate. Though I guess it does make sense. This is Heath McKade country.” Her smile was tenuous. “You came riding in like a knight on a horse, only wearing a Stetson.”
He hadn’t meant to give her the impression he was a hero. He refused to let her words bolster him. She was injured, and he focused on that.
“Let me change that bandage and clean up the wound.” Even a minor head injury could bleed profusely, but she still needed professional medical attention. “Then we’ll head to town to get that looked at by a professional. You can talk to the sheriff there too. If Leroy did as I asked, then the sheriff will have sent deputies to look for the woman and the shooter. Go ahead inside the big tent there.”
She did as he asked and took a seat at a long picnic table. He positioned a bright lantern so he could see better. Then he sat down next to her and unwrapped the bandage. He could hardly believe Harper Larrabee was there. Wait—Reynolds. Harper Reynolds. Weird to think they’d been so close once, but with so much time gone by since he’d seen her, they were almost strangers now.
She reached up to touch her head and winced. “Is it bad?”
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
She nodded. “It throbs, but it’s the least of my worries.”
He didn’t know why, but he took her hand then. “The bear could have done a lot worse. You’re safe now.”
“Oh, this?” She gestured to her head. “The bear didn’t do this.”
Leroy entered the tent. “Heath, what’s going on? I started to radio again. What’s this about a murder?”
Her gaze jerked to Leroy.
Leroy eyed her. “I’m sorry, Ms. . . .”
“Harper. Call me Harper.” She swayed in her seat.
Leroy held out his hand as if he thought she would fall over. Heath did the same. “Get me the medical kit,” Heath said.
“Sure thing.” Leroy turned to rush away.
“Oh, and Leroy, we ran into a grizzly. He’s agitated. Let’s make sure everyone stays alert to that fact.” Harper’s bleeding head didn’t help matters and could attract the animal. “We should get ahold of Ranger Hinckley and let him know what’s going on with the bear and the shooter. You contacted the sheriff, didn’t you?”
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